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Friday morning I got to the office before nine, intending to read Chaz' quarterly report. But the phone rang right away — Mona wasn't even in yet.

"Hollister."

"G'day. My name's Morgan. I'm Shirl's dad. We met several years ago."

"Right. I remember you. How's Shirl?"

"She's fine. She's in Brisbane. Her boss in The Alice got her a fellowship and she got a Diploma in Plant Protection. Now she's finishing her doctorate in Agricultural Science."

"That's a smart girl."

"Yep. Those post-graduate programmes run around twenty thousand a year, and she hasn't cost us anything."

"But that's not why you called."

"No. There's a guy who's looking to buy some acreage down here and I was at a meeting with him yesterday. Anyway, all of a sudden he's layin' into the CSIRO and how they meddle in business and then he begins cursin' you. So I remembered you and how you helped Shirl and gave a talk at the Wine Institute. And I thought I'd call and tip you off, 'cause he's layin' for you."

"Well, thanks. What was his name?"

"Darrell."

"Darrell. No, I don't think I've met him. But thanks again. And say hello to Shirl for me."

"I sure will. You take care now."

I looked at my watch. Still a bit of time. I called Sue, but got the answerphone. Then I called Chaz and suggested I come direct from the dentist. I walked next door and said hello to Mona. "I'll go directly to Floreat from the dentist, okay?"

"Sure. I'll hold the fort."

I got away with a cleaning and a "Come back in a year" from the dentist and drove to Floreat. Before I went in, however, I tried Sue again. This time I got her.

"Hi. I'm on my way to a meeting, but I got a call from an acquaintance in Margaret River. He said there was a chap there yesterday cursing me ... No, I didn't know him ... His name was 'Darrell.' I don't recall ever meeting him ... He was buying acreage, I was told ... Okay. Call me at home in the evening; or call Weena ... Right. Gotta go. Bye."

We'd see whether that was a good clue.

Chaz had everything set up: folders for each candidate: resumes, academic records, references. There was a lot, but it might not be a problem.

"Okay. You said a part-timer on the chick peas project and a post-doc in sustainable ecosystems, right?."

"Right. These three for chick peas; and these are the post-docs."

"Let's go through the part-timers and then go to lunch."

"Okay. They're in alphabetical order. They all have degrees and either a diploma or a master's."

I scanned the first resume, then the second, then the third. "Anything jump out at you?"

"Yes, the second one. She's done more work than the other two, but dropped out for five years to have a baby and become a stay-home mom. Her letters are strong, but not new. But one of them is from your new guy, the one from Cook."

"Hmm. She live near here?"

"Northam. Her husband's an agronomist, apparently."

"You spoke to her?"

"We did phone interviews with all three."

"Problems?"

"She'd like the half-time to be six or seven hours three days a week."

"What do the others on the project say?"

"Irv — the chap with a beard and nothing on top — says he has work to be done, doesn't matter what days or times."

"Gosh! Not a nine-to-fiver! I'm so-o-o shocked." We laughed. "Now, tell me about the other two."

"Well, they're both local." He picked up one of the folders. "This bloke worked here as an intern two summers ago. Irv didn't like him."

"Irv's running the project?"

"Yes. You recall, he's big on all the legumes there are."

"Right. He wanted to plant lupins all over until New Zealand declared them invasive. And the third guy?"

"He's okay. Certainly competent. But no one was 'excited' about him."

"Fine. Here's the ruling: you make an offer to the young woman. If she says 'no, ' go to the unexciting one. Avoid the trouble-maker."

"Okay." Chaz took a marker and wrote "1, 2, 3" on the folders. "I'll phone her later and then send you a memo."

"Don't forget copies of everything in the folder."

"Done. Now for lunch!"

We drove to Han's Cafe in the Floreat Forum and overate on Singapore noodles (me) and Malaysian noodles (Chaz). Chaz asked about my "movement." I told him about my conversations with Rob and Sue. Then I told him about the call from Shirl Morgan's father.

"Darrell? Avery Darrell?"

"I didn't get his first name. Do you know him?"

"Never met him, but if it is Avery Darrell, he was one of the group up in Geraldton that tried to stop the water research."

"Hmmm."

"But why get after you? I was the one who wrote the report. And I was the one who talked about it on Sue's programme nearly a year ago."

"I don't know. I still don't understand it. But it's a thread. Let's go look at those post-docs."

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Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 18 Grafton to Moree

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Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 22 Kiama

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Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 25 In Sydney

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Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 2

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Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 5 Epsilon Station to Nockatunga Waterhole

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Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 17 Grafton IV

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A complete work of fiction with no reality except the yearning for a time long past.Greta was still wearing her full brief nylon panties as my hard cock bottomed out inside of her. I looked down at her as she looked into my eyes with a wanton look of lust and passion. I heard her moan softly and say, “Yes Larry, just like that, I want to cum on your cock.”I needed no encouragement but her words brought me close to that point of no return. I had been sexually charged over Greta since we had met...

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